


Save Me

by Madam_McFerret



Series: Deeper Than A Knife [1]
Category: Shingeki no Kyojin | Attack on Titan
Genre: Anorexia, Art, Cutting, Difficulties in a Relationship, Hell Flashbacks, Insecurity, Love, M/M, Misery, Rape, Realization, Relationship(s), Relief, Suicidal Love Story, Suicide Attempt, life - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-07-16
Updated: 2014-07-17
Packaged: 2018-02-09 02:38:02
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 4
Words: 5,315
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1965768
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Madam_McFerret/pseuds/Madam_McFerret
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Marco, coming from a shitty background of alcoholic and abusive parents, is a young man who has on many occasions thought that life wasn't worth living. He thought that someone like him didn't deserve the beauty and grandeur of life. Jean is a young man who struggles with anorexia, because he can't look in the mirror without being disgusted with himself. The two young men meet at a correctional facility, and become intertwined in each other's lives. Can Marco and Jean get past their insecurities and shadowy backgrounds and one day realize that life is worth living when you have a purpose?</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. When Copper Filled The Air

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Talliquiem](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Talliquiem/gifts).



A 17 year old Marco shivered in his room, huddling in the corner quietly. He barely dared to let a breath escape his lips, for fear THEY would hear and come back in here. What was happening, you might ask? Marco was a senior at Trost high school, and was very intelligent and loving. He was bullied at school, but didn't mind because it was a lot better than going back to the hell hole he called home. 

Being in the top five percent of his class, Marco was respected among his peers as well. He was also an amazing artist and the whole school seemed to know it. Marco worked at a bakery in a grocery store making birthday cakes, and got paid 9 dollars an hour, which for a high schooler, is pretty damned awesome. He was adored by many, but there was only one problem: he felt so fucking small in this world. He was adored by many, yes, but he really didn't have any friends. It didn't help that he never got to use any of his money to buy cool things or hang out with anyone... The money he earned at his job was given directly to his parents.

They both had dead end jobs, so couldn't afford the thing they thought they needed most: alcohol. They used all of their money living pay check to pay check, leaving Marco to fend for himself by getting food from his art teacher. They used all of Marco's hard earned money to buy booze. And believe me when I say that Marco's parents were not happy drunks at all. The only person Marco could trust in this world was his art teacher, Mrs. Mial.

So, Marco stayed shivering in his room, hoping they wouldn't come looking for him. They did however, and his father pulled him up to his feet, yanking him up harshly by his hair. His father mocked him, slurring his words tremendously. "Sooo. My son iz flamboyantly gay, ehhhh? I knew you woor a dizgraze. Yoor nothing more than a cock sooking basterd, ya hear me? Look in my damned eyes before I fooking beat the shit out of you." Marco lifted his eyes to just barely gaze into his father's. His father sensed fear in his son and immediately grabbed him around the neck, slamming him against the door. 

"You fooking scared ass bitch! With yoor soft and wise eyes. Damn you. You think yoor sooo much better than me because yoor smarter than me, iz that it? I'll fooking mess you up." His father closed his fingers more around Marco's throat, digging in his fingers enough to draw blood before releasing him. Marco fell to the ground, barely regaining his breath before his mother and father began kicking him hard in the gut, chest, and the occasional kick to the face. After a few minutes of beating Marco, they left the room, returning to their booze in a cackling mess. Marco inhaled sharply, shaking to the bone in his inadequate clothing. He was sinking lower and lower into the oblivion of sleep, but something kept him awake. He got up, and was about to try something that would mess up his life for the next few years. Marco was going to do something that was suggested to him by Connie as a coping mechanism. Marco was going to cut himself. 

Marco's face was pale, which made his freckles contrast more than they usually did with his skin. He took out the razor blades that Connie had given to him and positioned them to his wrist. "Marco.... This will hurt, but in a sense, it will take all your pain away at the same time." He pressed the blade into his skin, and slowly dragged it across his skin. He almost let out a sharp yelp, but used his shoulder to muffle his hurt. Then, the smell of copper filled the air as Marco kept dragging the blade across his skin. Over and over he left deep crimson lines across his skin. Soon, Marco had red lines staining his left and right arms. He exhaled quietly and got up to go to the bathroom. By this point, his parents would be so intoxicated that they'd be knocked out. 

He entered the bathroom, and closed the door before turning on the bright light. He took off his shirt, but winced because his arms were cut up, and he had been beaten to a pulp. He looked at himself and started to cry. "This.... This is surely Dante's seventh circle of Hell." he cried, bruises showing all over his chest and stomach, a black eye, marks from where his dad had chocked him, and to top it off, all the cuts on Marco's arms. I was almost summer, so it would be hard hiding all of this. His art teacher would definitely call CPS now. 

___________________________________________________________

Marco got up the next morning and quickly threw on some shorts, a tee, and his shoes. He added a casual scarf to hide the choke marks, and wore a hoodie to hide his cuts and any other bruises on his arms. He gathered his school things quickly and headed out the door, walking to school. He never ate breakfast at home anymore, for fear that his parents would wake up and give him a sound thrashing before school. 

The whole walk to school was filled with Marco contemplating on what to do. He finally decided that today was the day they would call CPS and get Marco moved to a more stable environment. The thing was, Marco was so unstable mentally and emotionally now, he didn't know where they would place him. Marco got to school, and raced down the halls to his art teacher's room. She always got their early now, so that she could bring Marco a good breakfast. He burst into her classroom and he smile faded. "Oh my God, Marco. What happened?" She got up and ran to him, embracing him as he began to cry. He managed to choke out, "I think it is time we called child protection services." He eyes widened. 

She nodded and backed away a few steps. "Let me see them Marco. Let me see what they have done this time to you." But when Marco hesitated, she became suspicious. "Marco, you always show me. If there is something worse than usual, I need to know so that I can document it and report it to the school." Marco unwillingly gave in and took of the scarf, the hoodie, and finally his shirt. Mrs. Mial gasped in horror and began to cry, which Marco had never seen her do. "Marco... He choked you this time? and y-your arms. Did you-?" He nodded grimly. "I... I needed to, I couldn't hold back any more. I was pushed over the edge, and I'm scared and I need mental and emotional help. Mrs. Mial, what are we going to do?" He asked, his eyes filling to the brim again. 

The woman stared at him and thought for awhile. "We will take you somewhere I know you will be safe, A correctional facility. They will give you therapy and help you through your emotional trauma. We will first have to make sure that the court finds a proper sentence for the bastards."


	2. Correction, Right?

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Marco is taken to a correctional facility, where he will spend a few months being coaxed out of the darkness and into the light of happiness. Will it work?

Everything was in order. Marco's parents had abused him so badly that they were sentenced to 30 years in prison, assuming they didn't die before then from liver failure. Mrs. Mial introduced the idea of a correctional facility to the court, who generously agreed. Marco was to spend his time there recovering physically, mentally, emotionally, and socially. He agreed and was assigned a room promptly. He would be sharing a room with a fellow called "Jean Kirstein" who suffered from anxiety attacks and anorexia. Marco figured this guy would mind his own business, but boy was he wrong. He didn't know that Jean would fall down the rabbit hole into the hell of a life that was Marco's. He would guide Marco along, and Marco would guide him. These two would become very dependent upon each other, and this was their story:

Marco didn't bring much with him to his correctional facility room. He wore his usual rainbow hoodie with black pants and his black scarf. He didn't want anyone to really know why he was here just yet, so he wore as much clothing as he could so that he could hide everything: The cuts, the bruises, his insecurity with his slightly pudgy body. He wasn't fat, but he was very stocky.

Marco arrived to his room, only to find a young man standing in front of a mirror, inspecting his stomach. He turned to see Marco and smiled. "Hi, I uh, am Jean. It's french, so it has a weird pronunciation. This is our 'grand' room. Hope you like it, because we will be here awhile. You can have which every bed you like, I sleep in either, so it doesn't matter to me." That's when Marco noticed them, the scars. Jean was actually fit, and didn't look anorexic -probably due to being here for months- but he had very very bright scars following the certain odd contours of his stomach. It looked as if... Jean had once tried cutting the fat off of himself. Marco saw Jean get embarrassed and apologized. "S-sorry. I just thought that... Well, I was the only person I knew that did that."

Marco lifted off his rainbow hood and his shirt, revealing the cuts all along his arms, Jean turning around and seeing how fresh they were. Hell, they had barely even scabbed over. Jean went over to Marco and felt with his fingers lightly how Marco's cuts felt. They were bumpy and rigid, just as he expected them to be. But his hand continued up, his eyes closed, and he froze when he touched soft skin. 'Oh shit, this was nice.' Jean thought. He looked up at Marco, who looked very uncomfortable, and slightly in pain.

"S-sorry. It's just... I learn really well by touching. I hope you don't mind." 'Oh, how I don't mind.' Thought Marco. Jean had sent butterflies galore into his stomach, and Marco's flamboyantly gay body had sent some warmth down to his area, but he calmed himself and ignored it. "So Jean, you trying to hit on me or something?" Jean laughed and almost died with laughter. "Somebody has a very good working Gaydar. But hey pal, takes one to know one, am I right?" Marco blushed and chuckled nervously. Jean's gaze turned serious. "Oh my God I am not the only gay one here. About damn time, Bodt is it? I'm just messing with you. You'd have to buy my dinner first." Jean said, winking and earning himself a playful punch to his shoulder.

Before their awkward conversation could continue, there was a gentle knock on the door. Marco walked over and opened it, revealing the short blond receptionist -I think it was Historia- that had led him to his room. "Ahem. I am Historia, and I will be showing you to where your therapist is, if you don't mind. If you would like, Mr. Kirstein here may join you. You may want a friend to sit in with you, because describing your emotional trauma will require a shoulder to cry on generally."  
______________________________________

Historia, Jean, and Marco headed down the long corridors, a suspenseful feeling rising in Marco's chest. Who would this guy be, anyway? Marco was naturally scared, and grabbed Jean's hand in support, finding himself leaning dangerously while walking quite a few times. They finally approached the door and heard a soft "Come in". Sitting in a chair was a guy in his his early thirties, with blond hair and super thick eyebrows. He looked stoic, but also as gentle as a teddy bear. Marco loosened up, sensing that he could relax around his man. 

"The name is Dr. Smith, but you can just call me Erwin. The next few hours are going to be painful, as I force you to retell everything that has happened to you. I'm sorry, but it's necessary that we know everything so that we can help better you quicker. So, I'm all ears." Erwin sat down in one of the many comfortable seats in his office, holding a clipboard and a pen. 

Marco told him all about the most recent abusive strike, and how it had resulted in him cutting himself. He told Erwin of all the times his parents had taken his money for booze and he always suffered repercussions. But, they were not always drunk when they beat him, it was just always worse when they were drunk. Marco had finished telling most of his stories, Erwin scribbling things down like a mad man. Marco suddenly got teary eyed, and found solace in holding Jean's hand again. "The worst however, was when My father raped me." He said quietly. Even though the room had already been quiet, the scribbling stopped and everyone looked at Marco, but his eyes were glazed over and in a different place. Marco would've stayed like that for hours, had Jean not snapped him back into reality. 

He glanced at Erwin who looked at him with sorrow flooding in his eyes. "I think you should take a break for the rest of the day." Marco nodded his head and sprinted down the hall, opening his door, and flopping down onto his bed immediately. Jean followed suit, opening the door to a crying Marco. He sat down on the bed next to Marco, rubbing his back gently. Marco sobbed, where Jean only mumbled these few lines: "When bad things happen in life, you have three choices. Let it control you, let it defeat you, or let it strengthen you." With that statement, Marco fell into a relentless oblivion of sleep, turning and writhing in fear.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Phew :P


	3. What's Wrong, Jeanny Boy?

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jean tells Marco his story, and how he got the scars on his stomach. 
> 
> WARNING: IF YOU HAVE A WEAK STOMACH, DO NOT READ THIS CHAPTER.

After Marco had calmed down, he pulled himself up into a sitting position and was sniffling. Jean crawled onto the bed with him, and leaned his head into Marco's shoulder. "You know... I know your story but you don't know mine. I figured since we will be rooming together, you should know. But fair warning, you might find me stupid for what I did afterwards, I know it haunts me every day." Marco glanced down at Jean, clearing his throat. "I'm prepared. Just know that it won't cloud how I see you. So far in my short time on Earth I've been through a lot and seen even more, and because of that I understand that everyone does things they may regret but seem like a good idea at the time." Jean straightened up a bit more, and leaned his back against the wall behind the bed. "Then let's get started."  
__________________________________________

Jean was a junior in highschool at Trost highschool, same year that Marco was a junior. The two didn't even know each other. Hell, the two didn't even know the other existed. Anyways, back to the story. Jean was overweight, and by the looks of him now, you would never have been able to tell that. Jean was intelligent and amazing at singing, and was in the choir. However, he didn't have any friends other than the choir teacher. People made fun of him all the time because he was fat, and he let this make him extremely self conscious, putting up wall after wall to block out the wretched insults people bombarded him with day after day. 

Jean had the same features as he did now, the rigid jaw, strong chest, two toned blond/brown undercut hair, and golden eyes. However, his stomach was what was pudgy. It didn't look very good on him and he wore it awkwardly, even his parents had informed him of this. His parents, by the way, were very rich business sales people, and hardly spent time with Jean because they were too focused on earning money. Jean was a neglected child, and had felt so lonely his whole life. As if the lectures at home were not enough, he was bullied to no end at school. It was like those boys were merciless. 

Jean wasn't 110 percent alone all the time, though. His choir teacher had given him his phone number, so that when Jean was having bad thoughts again, he could call. Jean would often think about ending it, because no matter how hard he tried, he felt as if he couldn't please the world. That's when he began having anxiety attacks. He would be singing in choir, and break down, curling in a ball and scaring his teacher. Any time he had to present in a class, he froze up and his eyes glazed, making his teachers sense that Jean wasn't in reality when this happened. Indeed he wasn't.

When Jean had these attacks, he would see his parents, thin and trim, making fun of him. They boys saying, "What's wrong Jeanny Boy? Still as large as a horse, I see." He would feel the kids pushing him in the halls, taste the tears on his lips as he cried himself to sleep every night. Hear the grumbling of his stomach since he hadn't fed himself in over a week. He would smell the blood dripping from his stomach when his choir teacher had failed to comfort him. That's why everyone went around him, he was a freak that had anxiety attacks. After time, he became like a zombie, his eyes glazed over in every class except choir, and even then sometimes.  
__________________________________________

Eventually it became too much for Jean, and by the beginning of his and Marco's senior year, he had had enough. Yes, he had lost twenty pounds from starving himself, but he was weak and was about to do something that would change his life forever. He went to the kitchen, and grabbed the massive kitchen shears, returning to his room. Before he did it however, he called his choir teacher. "Mr. Gerald, sorry for waking you." Jean heard a soft groan and a "It's okay. What's up Jean?" Jean exhaled, dark thoughts in his mind. "I... I won't be in choir tomorrow. Or the next day, or the next. I can't stand it anymore Mr. Gerald. I called to say good bye. You were the father I wish I had had. Good bye, I love you." Jean clicked end as he was hearing Mr. Gerald begin to try to calm him. He wasn't in the mood for that, he wanted to leave. To be in heaven with Gram didn't sound so bad. 

Jean took the kitchen scissors and began cutting away at the fat layers on his stomach. Clump by fatty clump, plump pieces of flesh fell from Jean's body as he got weaker and weaker. A large stench of copper filled the air, as ounces began pouring out of Jean. He shuddered in pain, but continued slicing away. After a few minutes, he was losing consciousness as he heard police sirens. Through lidded eyes he saw his parents, Mr. Gerald and some paramedics run into his room. He was gently lifted on to a gurney, people yelling inaudible things and hearing his mother cry out "Jean! Jean baby!" Even in Jean's critical shape, he was conscious enough to say weakly "No. Don't let my parents on the ambulance. Just... Just Mr. Gerald. I don't want my parents... near me.... at all." His mom began crying as some officers held her sternly, respecting his wishes. Jean was lifted on to the ambulance and people automatically started entering IVs, pumping blood and morphine into Jean, stitching him up quickly but professionally, pressing down thick layers of gauze onto Jean's stomach.  
_________________________________________

The next morning, Jean woke up to the soft drip of morphine and blood in IVs, and a steady beeping of what he was to assume was his heart beat. He tried moving, but couldn't, because pain shot all up his body. "Shit." Jean muttered, slowly regaining his sight and taking a look around his room. Mr. Gerald was sitting in a stiff chair, looking at Jean, sleep deprivation showing in his eyes. "Mr. Gerald... What... What happened? My head hurts too much to remember. Can you please prop me up, I hate laying down like this."

Mr. Gerald sighed and walked over to Jean, propping him up gently, aware of the wincing mess Jean was. "Why do I hurt so damned much?" Jean said thickly, realizing he also had a tube going to his stomach. "You tried killing yourself, Jean. You cut off almost all of the fat on your stomach, and you would've died had I not called the paramedics. Jean, you have a precious life, you know that. The tube going to your stomach is feeding you, because I know you've been starving yourself. The doctor's said you're actually healing quite nicely and we should try to get you to stand up today. Also, in your critical condition, you requested your parents not be granted access to you. Your mother broke down and admitted being negligent to your emotions and not caring that you were cutting or starving yourself. They are being tried as we speak and they will most likely get fifteen years for this."

Jean's eyes widened. "If my parents are gone... Then what am I going to do? I have no where to go..." Mr. Gerald just smiled and patted Jean's hand, starting to help him to his feet gently. "It's been decided that you will go to a correctional facility for a while to bring you to a stable lifestyle. Sorry kiddo, wasn't my choice, but it's a good idea. People have broken you Jean, but these people can fix you. I will visit often."

Jean and Mr. Gerald got to the mirror and they lifted back Jean's gown. Jean gasped and shook, almost convulsing. "I.... I'm thin for once..." Looking into the mirror, Jean saw a flat stomach with bright red scars littered across it, black stitches holding the wounds closed. his stomach twitched, the cold, crisp air in the room stinging in the wounds. Jean made his way back to his bed and started crying happily. "I'm thin!! I'm so perfect!" Mr. Gerald looked at him sadly and patted his back. "Jean, you were already perfect, you just failed to see your true beauty. I think my visit for today is over."  
__________________________________________

Jean's eyes glistened as he finished telling his story to Marco, his hand unmistakably laying on his stomach. "So, when I finally healed and got here a few months ago, I started eating good and healthy, working out. Now instead of scars across a thin body, I have scars across a fit body. I thought I would be happy, but I'm not." Marco just stared at him, and hugged him, sobbing. "Jean, your life is precious, so so precious. You were loved, and you didn't realize it Jean. Mr. Gerald, your choir mates, even the kids who picked on you. If they didn't care about you at all, they wouldn't have taken their time to pick on you. I learned to cherish my bullies, because their treatment was better than the treatment I got at home. You're gonna be okay, Jean. Just relax. WE are two really messed up seniors in highschool huh?"

Marco and Jean, to calm down from horrible memories, popped in a movie and had a movie marathon until three in the morning. After watching horror, action and comedy, the two were exhausted and went to sleep, curled up on the bean bags in front of their TV. These boys were broken, but they would be the best medicine for each other.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm really really REALLY sorry. This story will get less feelsy, I promise.


	4. Mercy

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Marco and Jean are allowed a day out of the center, so Jean and Marco get lunch together. But Marco gets heckled by a boy who he went to school with. The boy calls him emo and says that he deserved to be abused. How does Jean react?

The next morning, Jean and Marco woke up to a knocking on the door. Marco got up, Jean pissed off and remaining in bed, and answered the door, finding a short black haired man standing there. "Uh, hello. I wasn't expecting guests this early in the morning. I am Mar-" He was cut of by the short man. "You're Marco Bodt, I know. I am Dr. Levi, and I shall be addressed as such. Considering you and Jean's shadowy past year, I think you deserve a day out of the walls. I know you just got here, but you and Jean get to spend the day together building your social awareness and become comfortable in social situations. Jean is uncomfortable in public, but he will be fine if you are with him. Trust me. So wake him up and get ready. Historia will drive you two into town and provide you with your phone, Marco. On the phone you have mine, Historia's, Erwin's and Jean's number. You can get more numbers from people in the facility and earn up points to get friends' numbers from outside the walls. Do you have any friends?" 

Marco smiled shyly. "Jean is pretty much my only friend. The only friend I had before I met him was my art teacher, but I doubt that counts." Dr. Levi nodded and wrote something down on a notepad I guess he had been holding the whole time. "Well, wake up your friend and please put on a shirt, Mr. Bodt. as flattering as you look, Historia would get quite flustered and I know you're not one for girls." Dr. Levi smirked and walked out the door, leaving Marco wondering how they knew. 'I guess my parents listed that as a reason for abusing me or something.'

"Jean. Wake up, we are going out of the walls. Dr. Levi said we are leaving soon. Get up and put on a shirt." 'God, he has cute bedhead. Shit.' "Jean.." Marco shook him gently, then realized this wouldn't work. Time to play mean. A devious smile spread across Marco's face as he ran to the bathroom. He grabbed some Axe that he not so graciously been given. Jean and Marco both HATED the smell of it, unless it was chocolate Axe, which this was not. Marco walked up to Jean slowly and gave him one last chance. "Jean, I'm warning you. You better wake up now." Jean only stuck out his middle finger with his eyes still closed and muttered a halfhearted "Fuck off Marcooo." before rolling over. Marco laughed and held down the top of the can, spraying Axe all over Jean, who fell into a coughing fit and quickly sprung out of bed, confused and annoyed. "What. The. Hell. Marco. Fucking. Bodt." Marco only continued to laugh before telling Jean, "We are going outside the walls of this facility today. Take a shower and get that stench off of you." Jean grumbled and got up and hoped in the shower, Marco freshening himself right up, pulling on a "My Chemical Romance" shirt and pulling on a rainbow beanie he brought with him. He laughed at himself upon looking at himself in the mirror. He would only look more goth and hipster if he got an eyebrow piercing, which he actually considered for half a second.   
_________________________________________

After the two finished getting ready, They phoned Historia and she came and got them. She pulled up the car as they waited in the lobby. Jean leaned over and whispered to Marco, "Are you not afraid of someone seeing your cuts?" Marco had completely forgot, and upon remembering his arms began to hurt again. "I guess it would be suspicious if I wore my hoodie or if I keep my arms close to my sides today. Maybe we won't see anyone we know, maybe I'll get lucky." Marco and Jean got in the car as Historia finally pulled up, Jean having a look of uncertainty on his face. If only they were that lucky. 

Marco and Jean first went to Hot Topic, simply because Jean wanted to get some rings for cartilage piercings he supposedly had. Upon Marco creepily inspecting his ears from a distance, he realized Jean didn't have any cartilage piercing. "Jean, you don't have a single piercing on your ears... So why are you buying those?" Jean only laughed and wiggled his eyebrows. "I'm going to pierce it tonight when I get back. I also think you should, it would complete your whole wardrobe, or at least today's get up." Marco thought for a second and then nodded slowly. "Okay. But if my ears get infected, I'll hurt you." Marco picked out some studs and rings for his ears, then moved on to band shirts after he picked some piercings. He got a Guns N' Roses Tee and some Minecraft merchandise. 'Wow. This guy is a total Nerd.' Jean thought to himself. 'But a fucking adorable one, at that.'  
_________________________________________

After they finished their hipster shopping, they went to go eat lunch, which Marco thought Jean would have trouble with due to his old problems, but Jean insisted he was starving. The two went to a Sonic, treating themselves to shakes and popcorn chicken. They were having a great time playing a game of 'Catch-the-chicken-in-your-mouth" game when Marco and Jean heard a voice that was all too familiar. "Jeanny-Boy isn't fat anymore I see, but he's a suicidal bastard, and Marco Bodt always passed his tests with flying rainbow colors." Yes, Eren fucking Jaeger was at Sonic, noticed the two, and decided to talk shit even though he knew what Marco and Jean had been through. "Jaeger, go the fuck away, we aren't in the mood." Eren only took that as a challenge, like fucking always, and pulled Marco to his feet harshly. "Mama hit you too hard, Bodt? I honestly think your parents were in the right. I would beat a child if they were as flamboyantly gay was you, you fucking faggot." Eren raised his hand and brought it down swiftly into Marco's jaw, earning a whimper. Jean leaped out of his seat. "Stop it you asshole! You know what he's been through!" Eren kept hitting Marco, Marco curling into a defensive position. "Mercy... Mercy.... Mercy..." Marco's eyes glazed over as he kept repeating Mercy. Jean had had enough, and grabbed Eren, lifting him off the ground. "Fucking. Stop. You cut deeper than any knife, you asshole. You just perpetuate the stereotype that homophobics are assholes. Screw off before I fuck you up." Jean spat, venom in his words. Eren laughed and kicked Jean in the shin. Jean promptly punched Eren in the stomach, hard, then punching him square in his face, causing his nose to bleed. "While I got into shape, I taught myself MMA. So, fuck off." Eren nodded and headed his way, sputtering and gasping for air the whole way. 

Jean helped Marco up, snapping him out of his trance. "Let's get back before anymore shit happens, okay?" Marco nodded and realization flooded his face. "You saved me. Thank you, thank you Jean." Needless to say, Marco cried the whole way back and then told Erwin as soon as he went to therapy later that afternoon. Erwin smiled and looked at Marco contently. "And what is Jean to you?" Marco blushed at such an odd question. "Uh, he's my best friend, I guess. All I know is that he saved me from another hellish day." Erwin smiled and wrote something down. "Dismissed for the day, Marco. Maybe you'll get better if you spend you time with Jean. Here's your homework: Have a good time with Jean, and see what it's like to have a best friend." Marco smiled, gave Erwin a hand shake and left the room, heading back to his. Erwin thought deeply. 'Jean just might be what Marco needs to get better, and vice versa. I would like to see where this goes. Good job being there as a friend, Jean.'

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you, Jean. Yeah, you stick up for Marco and beat that silly mutha fucka.

**Author's Note:**

> Bear with me, there will be feels and this will get graphic at many points throughout the series. I thought I could write an inspiring story about cutting and anorexia, and how if you have something to live for, then live for it. I do not mean to bring offense to anyone in anyway, so please take this as me saying, I know what it's like and this is my way of expressing my feelings towards these topics. Feel free to leave comments, and I hope you enjoy.
> 
> Love, K


End file.
